I Did Not!
by Rottweiler7692
Summary: Scene to Undercover Bros Supermystery 1. Joe claims he didn't use to wet the bed. Frank remembers differently.


Disclaimer: Don't own the Hardy Boys or even the book!

Warning: The Hardy's may seem a little (no, _way_) younger than they're supposed to be but keep in mind, they seem young in the Undercover Bros series so please don't blame me. Also, they might seem closer than the books portray them. But: absolutely NO incest, ever. shudders

I was just going to do a short one-shot but… this is what happened. It's way longer than I expected. Hope you like.

* * *

"I claim top bunk," Joe said.

"The top bunk is mine," Frank snapped back. "It's always been mine. You know that."

"We're not kids anymore."

Frank sighed. "Oh, all right. You can have the stupid top bunk."

Joe cheered and scrambled up into the bunk bed. He crossed his legs and kicked back against the pillows. "I like it up here," he said. "How come you never let me sleep on top when we were kids?"

"Because you used to wet the bed and have nightmares. You would even sleepwalk sometimes."

"Did not!" Joe said indignantly.

"Did so."

"Did not."

"Ask Mom. She had to buy plastic sheets for you," Frank said with a smirk.

"Liar."

"Bed wetter."

"Shut up!" Joe lobbed his pillow at Frank, who easily spun around and caught it.

"No, really. Ask Mom." Frank threw the pillow onto the lower bunk. "Oh yeah," he said, remembering, "You used to be terrified of the tree branches outside scraping the cabin at the window. When there were storms and lightning lit up the branches, you'd go running to Mom and Dad."

"You would come too," Joe whined.

Frank grinned wider. "Yeah, only 'cause you were too scared to leave the room alone. You were scared that the big, scary tree monster would come and scratch you to death."

Joe's only response was to cross his arms across his broad chest with a scowl and stick his tongue out.

"Real mature, Joe. You're not seven."

"I was _not _seven when I wet the bed!"

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was too."

"Was not not not _not_!"

Smirking, Frank crossed his own arms over his chest and with all the older brother superiority he could muster, he answered, "You admit to wetting the bed."

"I did not!" Joe wailed, horrified.

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

Frank rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "It's past your bedtime, baby Joey."

"Shut _up_! Don't call me that."

"Why not? You're my baby brother, baby brother."

Scowling ferociously but without the authority of the seventeen year old but of a child, Joe answered, "Yeah, well… you're mean!"

Frank snorted. "Great comeback, baby brother."

"Shut up!" Joe suddenly half got up only to bump his head on the low ceiling above him. He'd forgotten he was sitting on the top bunk. Flailing his arms wildly to keep his precarious balance, he was fighting a losing battle. The bunk bed was too small and he toppled off, hitting the ground with a thud. He lay there unmoving.

"Joe? Joe, are you okay?" Frank asked concerned, stifling a laugh at his clumsy brother. He leaned over his brother but suddenly, Joe pounced. He leaped on his big brother. This time, himself unbalanced, Frank tumbled off his chair.

"I'll get you for saying I wet the bed!" Joe bellowed.

"But you _did_," Frank replied mock exasperatedly, taking his brother in a head lock. "Besides, I'm older."

"Well, I'm heavier and stronger."

"You proud of your fat, baby brother?" asked Frank, still wrestling.

"It's not fat," Joe said indignantly, "It's one hundred percent pure muscle." Frank took advantage of his brother's distraction to pin him to the ground.

"Are you still stronger than me, little Joey?" he asked.

With a mighty heave, Joe shoved his brother off him, this time pinning _him _to the ground. "Oh! What now?"

"I'm still taller than you!"

"Only by an inch!"

"So? I'm older, taller, and smarter than you."

"Yeah, well… I'm stronger, heavier, and handsomer than you! Ha!"

With another practiced older brother roll of his eyes that he knew Joe hated, Frank flipped him over. "Handsomer? Where'd that come from? Anyway, let's not get into that now. I still got all the brains in the family."

"So?"

"Soo," Frank dragged out the syllable, "Brains are more important than looks."

"Are you kidding?" Joe asked with a surprised look on his face. "Looks get you the girls."

"So?"

Joe shook his head, still down. "Dude, you are soo hopeless. How could we have even come from the same family?"

With another sigh, Frank let his brother up. Jumping up, Joe shouted, "I get first dibs on the shower!"

Frank groaned. "Whatever."

"Yeah right, whatever," Joe said, blue eyes dancing. He couldn't help but taunt his brother. "You're gonna get cold water for your shower." In the moment he was teasing his brother, Frank dashed to the tiny bathroom. "Noo!" Joe shouted, running after his brother but not reaching the bathroom before the door was slammed in his face. He pounded on the door, yelling, "I called first dibs!"

"Get over it!" Frank hollered back, his voice echoing from the inside of the bathroom. "Don't be a baby."

"Damn it, Frank! I really have to pee!" Joe howled.

"Pick a tree outside and don't let the monsters get you!" was Frank's indifferent answer.

"Aargh!" Joe hollered before running out the door. He could hear Frank's hearty laugh behind the door.

When Joe finally finished with his freezing cold shower (wouldn't you know it, Frank used up all the hot water), he found Frank reading by flashlight in the bottom bunk.

"At least you let me have the top bunk" Joe grumbled, entering the room wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His still wet upper torso gleamed with beads of water. "God, I'm freezing."

"Just don't wet the bed," Frank said with a grin. Joe socked him with his pillow. "Aww, does baby Joey wanna have a willow wight?" he asked.

Joe's answer was to stick his tongue out again. Frank laughed and tossed his book on the couch before burrowing under the covers. "Turn the light off when you're ready," he said with a jaw cracking yawn. "All that running away from the cops has made me tired."

After turning out the old, dusty light, Joe climbed up into the top bunk. He accidentally but purposely kicked Frank in the side on his way. He heard the satisfying grunt that told him he'd made contact and got comfortable in his bunk with a smile on his face.

Twenty minutes later:

Joe couldn't sleep that night.

Every little sound outside the cabin – every hooting owl, every fluttering moth – made him jump up in bed.

_Is it them? Are they here?_

Then he'd look around the dark cabin and feel a little stupid for getting all worked up.

_If they know where we're hiding, then why don't they come and get us?_

Joe tried to go back to sleep. But as soon as he started to doze off, Frank's snoring woke him up again.

"Dude! Stop snoring!" he yelled down to the lower bunk.

Frank mumbled something about "chicken" and Belinda (oooh) and rolled over, still snoring.

Then Joe tried counting sheep. Which didn't work at all because the sheep kept turning into Wanted posters with his face on them and creatures he was sure were lurking outside in wait.

Joe finally gave up, knowing he was fighting a losing battle once again and quietly climbed down the ladder. Frank was still snoring, albeit a little quieter. Joe stood with bare feet on the ladder for a moment, watching his brother. As if sensing Joe, Frank shifted and finally ceased his incessant snoring.

Quickly, Joe jumped from the ladder into the bed beside Frank. He didn't touch the ground just in case the monster that had resided under the bed when they were kids was still there.

Frank awoke with a start, grunting when Joe climbed over his stomach to the other side of the bed, near the wall. The old springs creaked angrily and Frank was extremely surprised that they still held. He let out another painful grunt as 150 pounds of "baby" brother crawled over him and his sharp elbow caught his stomach.

"Shove over," Joe whispered.

"Why? What's happening?" Frank whispered back. Joe pushed Frank over none too gently and Frank sighed. He was having the most wonderful dream about Belinda and being able to talk to her and be cool with her without blushing or acting weird.

"Wait, why are we whispering?" Frank asked loudly. Joe frantically shushed him.

Finally, Frank's sleep fogged brain grasped what was going on. There were five dark icy fingers outside the window of the cabin, visible when the moon lit up behind them. They scratched the window, beckoning. Frank groaned. There went his peaceful night.

Joe snuggled next to him, nearly sending him off the end. "Joe, stop moving," Frank ordered his brother calmly. Joe obeyed but then Frank yelped when his freezing cold foot touched bare skin.

"God Joe, your feet are freezing. Get your socks back on or something." Even as Frank spoke halfheartedly, he knew Joe wasn't listening. He always lost his socks at night in bed. Probably had something to do with being a restless sleeper. Frank never ceased to be amazed at how noisy Joe was in sleep. He was still constantly in motion in bed. Tossing and turning. He also didn't even shut up at night, sleep talking. It was amazing that Frank and Joe Hardy shared the same blood and genes.

Joe sighed contentedly. He hadn't shared a bed in ages and had forgotten how warm and cozy it beside Frank. "Quit hogging the covers," he said sleepily.

"Me?! _I'm _hogging the covers? You're the one who came here in the first place!" Frank shook his head but became silent as he looked at his brother. He was caught in a dozen flashbacks of staying in this cabin and just sharing a bed with his brother in general. He gave a content but sleepy smile and didn't protest when Joe laid his head on his shoulder. Joe's blonde hair tickled his nose and he barely stifled a sneeze. He threw an arm around Joe's shoulders and held him close.

Joe shifted a little and finally relaxed against Frank. Now no monsters could reach him, sandwiched between the wall and his big brother. Not even the criminals, or the tree monsters or the monster under the bed. Nothing dared get him while in the close company of his big brother.

Frank smiled. Big brother was on duty again. Though having been on duty for seventeen years, he still hadn't had a job as big as this for a while. Nothing was happening to his baby brother under his watch. "You're not bad for a baby brother," he said softly into Joe's hair, "even though you _did_ use to wet the bed." Joe punched him in the stomach. Yep, they were brothers.

* * *

Please tell me what you think!


End file.
